


Shells

by EveryDayBella, StarryEyedShields



Series: Stucky Flashathon 2k15 [4]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Brooklyn Boys, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Chasing, M/M, Memories, Nightmares, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, time displacement
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-22
Updated: 2015-03-22
Packaged: 2018-03-19 04:00:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3595506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EveryDayBella/pseuds/EveryDayBella, https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarryEyedShields/pseuds/StarryEyedShields
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He runs. Steve follows. A boy overflowing and an empty shell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shells

**Author's Note:**

> Angelycdevil sent me this http://lumen-a.deviantart.com/art/wait-for-me-to-come-home-stucky-481934852 and told me to write a flash. This is what I wrote.

Steve wakes up alone in bed and panic sets in instantaneously. Panic because he’s alone and he can’t breath in the pre-dawn chill. It reminds him of ages and ages before when he was tiny and never able to take a deep breath. That only makes him think of the big, warm that would wrap around his shoulders and hold him close, counting slow and steady so that Steve would be able to gain control over his breathing.

Steve places his palm over his bare chest, forcing the panic away, or trying to. He needs to think, needs to focus, needs to pay attention. Nightmares and panic attacks could wait until later.

Bucky’s missing and that takes precedence.

Steve manages to force his way to his feet shakely. The window is in one piece and closed. That’s a good thing. That means that Bucky didn't feel like he had to run. He’d walked out, which meant he was thinking instead of just reacting.

Bucky has been back for a couple of months and Steve has his rhythms and mood mostly down. This isn't the first time that Bucky has left in the middle of night. He’s more than capable of taking care of himself and, as much as Steve didn't like it sometimes, Bucky needs space. If roaming the streets helped him then that’s what he would do.

That doesn't mean that Steve won’t run out and try to find him. Bucky did the same damn thing for him in the 30’s. It’s the very least Steve can do.

Steve reaches first for his phone then for his shoes. When she picks up on the first ring it makes him wonder all the more if she ever slept. “Rogers?”

“Bucky’s missing.”

“Did he run?”

“No.” Steve grunts in frustration when his shaking fingers fail to tie his shoelaces for the fourth time. “The window is still intact and none of the security alarms have tripped.”

“Okay, he’s probably just in his one of his usual haunts then. Clint and I will take downtown. You take Brooklyn. And Steve, breath okay? He’s fine.”

Steve exhales unevenly, like the air has been punched out of him. On the other end of the line he can hear Natasha waking Clint up. Their affectate bickering helps Steve calm down. Think. He has to think. Bucky has patterns, patterns he purposely leaves so Steve will be able to find him.

“Alight.” Steve tell’s Nat, voice steadier than it has been since he’d woken up. “You two be careful and call me if you find anything.”

“We will.” Natasha assures him.

He can hear Clint shout in the distance, “Don’t do anything stupid, Steve.”

Steve shakes his head and hangs up the phone. Times like this he really wishes Sam would just move to New York already. Not that he doesn’t like Natasha and Clint, its just that he could use Sam steady level headedness.

In the hallway Bucky’s jacket it gone, which is good thing. He was thinking when he left the apartment. Steve considers grabbing his shield. He doesn’t know what he's going to find out there. It’s been awhile since any of them had heard a peep out of Hydra and thats enough to set Steve’s teeth on edge. On the other hand, the shield is bit a conspicuous and he doesn’t want to be stopped by civilians out at this ungodly hour asking if he’s Captain America. Steve leaves it behind, all but running down the stairs and out of the apartment building.

Brooklyn is nearly unrecognizable from the slums he and Bucky grew up in. Gone are the jazz dance halls replaced by night clubs. The Dodgers moved to California. Steve’s still a little upset about if he were to be honest. Even with all the changes Bucky has managed to find little spots where things were recognizable to his memory addled mind. Steve has them all listed out in his mind along with the shortest routes to each. The dinner four blocks away that Bucky would sit in and order a milkshake. Prospect Park where he and Steve had gotten into more than their fair share amount of trouble as kids. The docks were Bucky had worked before he’d gotten drafted.

Steve tried not to give in to the panic as one by one they ticked off his list. His hand remained in his pocket ready to pull his phone out at the first sign of it ringing. In the shadowy covers of his mind he started developing scenarios. What if Hydra had recaptured him? What if the FBI or the CIA has managed to get their hands on him? What if AIM has decided that arm is too good to pass up on? Or, worst off, what if Bucky has run? Would Steve have to chase him halfway around the globe again?

Steve really doesn't think he can bare that heartache again.

He is on a residential block surrounded by five story apartment building ten times nicer than the tenements he’d grown up in when he sees the shadowy figure hiding in the mouth of the alley. The blue hoodie blends in with the blackness, but Steve will recognize it anywhere. Bucky had bought it as a joke seeing as both the front and back were embossed with Steve’s shield. Steve hasn’t missed the fact that Bucky seems to wear it whenever he’s thoughts and jumbled memories seem to be louder than normal. He just hasn't said anything about it.

Steve approaches him slowly, letting his footfalls slap down heavy and loud on the pavement. Bucky looks up just briefly as Steve leans across the alley from him before he turns back to the building across the street. His face is colored by a strong longing, a yearning for something he can’t quite reach.

“It’s not the same building, you know?” Steve’s voice echoes the yearning Bucky’s showing. Instead of the white washed, nice looking building in front of them he sees something shabby and run down with narrow windows. Its hard to believe they lived in that once. “They tore it down in the seventies.”

“Shoulda tore it down before we lived in it,” Bucky mutters.

“Probably.” He snickers. “It wasn’t as bad as that place we lived at down on the waterfront through.”

“The one that leaked every time it rained?”

“Yeah, there was a huge hole in a ceiling. I lost a whole set of sketchbooks after a really bad storm in ‘40. After that you pitched a fit and moved us here. Rent was more, and you had to walk farther to the docks, but I didn’t lose another sketch.”

Bucky’s lips curl into a smile, a shadow of his old self before Hydra took everything he was corrupted it. “You tried telling me it didn’t matter when you were sitting there looking at that mess of wet paper. I knew you lost most of the pictures you drew of your mom through and were trying to hide how much that hurt you. I wasn’t going to let that keep happening was I?”

“Course not.” The rush of affection Steve suddenly feels for the man right in front of him threatens to send him to his knees. “You always took care of me.”

“Someone had to. If you hadn’t had me you would have either died of the cold or gone after one too many bullies.”

“I had them on the run.”

“Sure ya did, pal.”

“Shut up ya big jerk.”

“Never, punk.”

The two of them lapse into silence, Bucky watching the building across the street while Steve watches Bucky. Steve isn’t quite sure why they’re here in the shadow of their past. Steve thinks about rushing forward and pulling Bucky toward him, but he doesn’t want to startle Bucky either. If Bucky wants to talk then he will. In the mean time Steve will stand here for as long Bucky wants too.

It’s a half hour later before Bucky opens up. “I woke up and I didn’t remember it. I could remember you, and I could remember the couch and the radio. I could remember the bed that creaked, and trying to fuck you and keep quiet at the same, but it’s like it all happened in a vacuum. Without all the details I was afraid that I was making it all up.”

“Do you remember it now?” Steve struggles to keep his worries from his voice. Bucky’s come so far and he doesn’t know what he’ll will do if he starts relapsing now.

Bucky shrugs his broad shoulders and turns to face Steve, finally looking away from the building that had replaced their own. Looking away from a past they would never be able to reach again and into a future they’re both still struggling to except. Bucky’s lips are stretched into a thin line and his eyes not entirely focused. Steve’s heart breaks as its been a long time since he’s seen that look. When Bucky had first came back to New York he’d carried that glazed over look like armour, separating himself from the world and Steve as a form of protection. Steve doesn’t know if he can handle going back to that.

He takes careful, slow steps toward Bucky so as not to startle him and make him run. He gently cups his cheek, thumbs brushing over his cheekbones. Bucky’s sea blue eyes drift closed as he leans into Steve. “I’m sorry,” Bucky whispers.

“Bucky, open your eyes.” He doesn’t issue orders to Bucky often, always tries to give him the choice but this is important. It won’t be the first time he’s heard this, it probably won’t be the last time either, but Bucky has to look at him to get the full effect, to really understand that Steve means every word. “It’s okay and you have nothing to be sorry for. I love you. Every piece of you. Every inch of you. I love you. It doesn’t matter what you do or do not remember, you’re still my Bucky, and you’re still the greatest man I’ve ever known.”

“I don’t deserve you, you know.”

“You deserve better than me.” Steve wants to kiss Bucky, want to chase away each of his fears. He can tell that Bucky wouldn’t be able to handle that, he’s too scattered and broken in that moment. Steve can’t help pulling him forward, wrapping him in his arms, and holding his shaking form together. Bucky doesn’t melt into him, but he does get his arms around Steve’s waist, holding on like a man about to drown.

Steve holds the shell of the man he loves, holding him so that he can fill him back up, not with old memories, but with new ones. Better ones. Ones with them together.

 


End file.
